wawanakwa_fallsfandomcom-20200214-history
Coding
On October 31st, the Louvre regulars congregate on chat to have an all-nighter in celebration of the calendar holiday. Everything is fine - like a usual Saturday night online - until an uninvited guest appears in their plug.dj session and things begin to get twisted as fuck. DISCLAIMER: This clusterfuck one-shot is the brainchild of Jordan's overactive imagination, #blessthismess. Story It was a quiet evening within three of the five households of the Louvre congregation. Jordan was tucked up in his bed; he had on a grey jumper adorned with red sleeves and a hood that was perched on his head. Earbuds in, he pressed the shuffle button on his go-to Apple Music playlist and the song ‘Blue Light’ by Kelela began to play at full volume. He sat in silence whilst mouthing the lyrics, waiting for the chat to fill up with the regulars. He had no lights on in his room, so he untangled himself out of the sheets and flicked the switch on the wall, the yellow light irradiating throughout the small space. As his eyes readjusted to the brightness, he removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with the hem of his hoodie, rubbing away the gathering of dust and filth that blurs his vision. Jordan then climbs back into his grovel, getting himself nice and comfortable. Not too far south-west, Wendy was in a similar position as Jordan was - cooped up in their bedroom, listening to music and waiting for their laptop to fire up. They head down to the kitchen, offering their mother a hot drink before standing and waiting for the kettle to boil. Once they had poured the water into two mugs, they head into the living room where they pass a mug filled with nyquil to their mother. After wishing her a good night, they head on back to their room. Placing the mug on their bedside table, the hot chocolate had pink and white marshmallows floating on the surface. The steam from the beverage was still visible as the vapours rose into the air. Whilst they typed in their password for their Wikia account, they also occupied their attention by having their copy of Survivor: Gabon playing on their television in the background at mid-volume. After typing in the web address for The Louvre’s secret hideaway, they’re directed to the Recent Wiki Activity where they see Jordan’s username and avatar idly sitting in chat. Down in Portugal, Eve was in her house’s kitchen, raiding the cupboards of any delicious treats to sneak back up to her room. The first cupboard held a variety of savoury goods, which she opted against stealing, her sweet tooth getting the better of her. In the cupboard closest to her fridge, she found a bag of miniature, individually wrapped sweets and chocolates which she takes. Rooting through the freezer, she takes out an already half-eaten tub of Ben n’ Jerry’s. After collecting a spoon out of the utensil drawer, she vacates the room and hides the treats in her hairnet. Eve then tiptoes along the carpeted corridor until she reached the stairs - opting to sprint up them - before diving onto her bed. She threw a Halsey CD at the door - deeming it trash - which flung it shut. Eve then pressed the button on her desk, a lamp lighting up her once dark room; revealing four walls adorned in hot pink paint, Paris Hilton posters and splotches of glitter here and there. Overseas, Ash was struggling to deal with the hectic Halloween evening. The front door of his house was wrapped in orange lights that look like miniature pumpkins and on the veranda lie three jack-o-lanterns aglow and flickering into the biting Halloween night air. On the door is a sign which reads ‘go back while there's still time.’, which Ash was forced to put up a couple of days prior. After attempting to climb the stairs back up to his room for the umpteenth time, the doorbell shrieks like a witch’s cackle, whilst the children on the outside press it over and over and chant “trick ‘r’ treat” repeatedly. October had almost evaporated into November and the air temperature was noticeably cooler. Halloween had fallen on a Saturday and the homes were more elaborately decorated for all the extra time and attention: garages had become demonic dungeons, severed limbs poked from closed doors and dire warnings to trespassers were pasted dripping red paint. Before the colours of the day had even softened or the shadows become giants on the cold sidewalk, the young children were already out in force, skipping between pumpkin marked homes It was only just nightfall and children came out in packs and wandered the streets like a synchronised horde. Ash had just finished holding out the bowl of sweets to three little savages, who each got two handfuls of the confectionery goods. They then dropped them into their decorative little bags before running down the tarmac driveway, shouting a very faint “thank you” amongst the cacophonous soundtrack of excited children and warn-out adults. Back in England, Liam was in a more populous location. Between the hoods of the cold cars run children in costumes. On this dark Halloween night there was only weak moonlight and the aging lampposts for illumination. As he looked up at the full moon, a cold breeze blew past him, causing an involuntary shiver to run down his spine. The sidewalk was always wet and the threat of rain loomed in the evenings; the damp leaves also meant that he struggled to keep his balance as he walked along the relatively slippery walkway. As he turned a street corner, everything went dead silent. At this point, he exhaled a shaky breath and continued with his trek home. For a while, things remained quiet. The sound of twigs snapping behind him, brought Liam out of his reverie and his initiative/uncontrollable reflex left him quickly spinning around to see what it was - only to see the path behind him vacant of anything but autumn leaves and squashed chewing gum. His irritation got the best of him, “If you’re trying to scare me, piss off you silly twat.” He doesn’t receive an answer, however, the sound of a cat hissing and glass bottles smashing in the distance makes him jump and in-turn, increase his walking pace. Once in the safety of his own house’s front garden, he releases a breath he didn’t notice he was holding. He then walks through the front door, without knocking, and clocks the sound and visuals that the television is omitting through the gap of the living room door. Ignoring it, he heads straight upstairs to his bedroom. He pushes the ‘power on’ button on his laptop and waits for it to boot. ---- ~ Bleak Moonlight has joined the chat. ~ GalaxyRemixZ 11:38 Do you wanna go on plug.dj? Hey Liam <3 OstianWendy 11:38 Liam <3 I think we should wait for Ash. I’m just finishing an org challenge anyway. Peppermint Princess 11:38 ^^ Liam <3 <3 <3 Bleak Moonlight 11:39 Jordan, Eve, Wendy<3 Yes @plug.dj Are we pulling an all-nighter like we did on New Year’s? (gayshrieking) GalaxyRemixZ 11:39 Legit please Let’s do it, whew The four sat idly in chat, talking about what they had down the week beforehand and how shit school or college was, before the topic of conversation switched over to music. This continued for an extra half an hour, give or take, which was interrupted by the long-awaited arrival of Ash. ---- ~ GhostNoises has joined the chat. ~ OstianWendy 00:16 Ash <3 Link the room @plug.dj GhostNoises 00:16 Hey bitches (rihanna) Peppermint Princess 00:16 SJSYUDIJDS Ash <3 <3 <3 I don’t have it saved (rage) Bleak Moonlight 00:16 Hey Ash GalaxyRemixZ 00:17 DEAD @eve Ash<3 After Liam had retrieved the link to Plug.dj, the group relocated and began a session of spamming music videos, vine compilations, BTEC-quality bitch fights, et cetera. This continued for a couple of hours until a random account joined their private room. Nobody noticed the avatar, probably due to the fact that he was located a fair distance away from the others, who were shown dancing along to the video playing. The new account was clad in a grim reaper costume. Wendy piped up and pointed him out, they dismissed it as a glitch or Ash gate-crashing with a sock account. However, after Liam went looking through the costumes in hopes of purchasing the exact same one as the new arrival, it wasn’t available under any of the categories. Without the five realising, the account had queued itself to play the next video. “Hello, unfortunate whores…” A voice said through the black screen of the video, one of which clearly had their vocals manipulated to sound more menacing than what they were. A slight twang of an unspecified accent could be heard as well, “You’ve been chosen at random to participate in a little… game.” The voice’s chuckle was sinister, “Listen to the following rules and don’t try to close your tabs, you won’t be successful.” As if the voice had noticed that both Jordan and Wendy had tried to press the red ‘X’, they both noticed that it was speaking the truth, their computers had glitched so that they were unable to dispose of the webpage. “Now… As a precaution, I’d just like to give you all a heads-up. A psychedelic concoction of rohypnol will filter out of each of your laptop’s speakers… It’ll have a lovely strawberry scent so I’d advise you to intake a good lungful of the stuff, that way you’ll knock yourself out and fully immerse yourself in the experience I’m offering.” All five members were unable to use the chat, the typing box being fully disabled. “You’ll be transported to my humble abode, where you’ll all embody your alter-egos. These will come with perks and detriments, essentially for your survival…” As he says this, all five stare at their laptop screens in confusion, “Yes, I said survival.” “Mind, this guy is fucking hilarious.” Liam mutters to himself, adjusting his position on his bed by crossing his legs and settling his laptop on his thighs. “I’ll see you soon, my darlings…” The video comes to an end and everything within the chatroom is restored. The next queued video (courtesy of Jordan), the music video for ‘Julia’ by SZA, begins to play as per usual. For a couple of minutes, everything was normal. The video itself proved to be some sort of bullshit hoax done to arouse a reaction. It was successful in doing just that, with Eve going on a temporary break where she fled to the bathroom to splash her face with some cold water. When she returned, she turned on the fan that sat in the corner of her room, to try and reduce the mugginess and heat. When she had turned around, her laptop had smoke pouring out of its speakers. The smoke wasn't completely opaque, but its long light pink wisps seemed to curl with others that were much darker in shade. Without realising it, she had inhaled the fumes that begin their ascent into the air, forming hovering clouds against her ceiling - overall matching her bedroom’s aesthetic. Suddenly, Eve’s skin went ashen and a wave of nausea passed over her, causing her to sway and tumble to the floor. She vomited her stomach’s contents onto the pink fluffy rug, her strength diminishing to the point where her cheek rested in the pool of chunk and liquid. Her breathing intensified and she took two deep breaths before passing out. As this entire debacle escalated within the other four households, each of them took different approaches to tackling the pink fog. Ash simply shoved his laptop off of his lap and tried to hold his breath for as long as possible; Wendy freaked out and, with their laptop in hand, tried to run to their parents for help. However, the door handle had become stiff, locking them inside their room. Liam had unlatched his window and attempted to throw his laptop out of the window, he succeeded in doing so, however, the pink fog still seeped in through the crack, filling his room. Jordan’s strategy was to shut his laptop and wrap it in his duvet. This worked temporarily but the pink gas to diffuse through the fabric. Simultaneously - after inhaling a decent amount of the oneirogenic general anaesthetic - the four collapsed. ---- The sound of a foghorn startles the unconscious quintet. Sitting up suddenly, Jordan massages his temples with the tips of his fingers, shaking his head to get rid of the intense migraine-like sensation he was feeling. Opening his eyes, he looks down and notices that his skin is a darker shade to his usual, freckle-covered pale/permanent sunburn tint and he screams. Upon hearing the sound of his own voice - typically not as high-pitched or feminine - he screams even louder. “Oh my god, mum, will you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to sleep.” A voice says, this one had a Geordie accent and sounded relatively unaltered to one that Jordan had heard before. “Liam?” Jordan asks wearily. He looks around and doesn’t see Liam at all, instead he spots four figures lying on the ground. “Fine… I’m up!” Liam rubs his eyes fervently and yawns. When he opens his mouth and looks at Jordan, he screams, “You’re not my mother!” He picks up the closest thing to him - which turns out to be a champagne glass with about a millilitre of bubbly inside - and throws it in Jordan’s direction, which he dodges. “Whoa, whoa! Chill out dickhead. It’s me, Jordan.” “Sure, Jan.” Liam says, squinting at the slightly overweight black woman that is sat in front of him. She has an unkempt afro and is clad in a yellow bra which covers her huge tits, a brown fur coat, red high-waisted shorts and strappy heels. “Does it sound like I’m taking the piss to you?” Jordan asks, trying to climb to his feet. It takes a few attempts due to the heels, but he eventually manages. “Not really, no. If this really is you, prove it.” Liam folds his arms over his chest, quickly looking down to see that he has breasts himself, “Holy shit, what the fuck?” “Pipe down, you’re basically a Teddy Sinclair knock-off. I don’t know why you’re getting high-rate.” Jordan rolls his eyes. “Um, hello? I’m now a woman.” His eyes widen and he hastily unbuttons his jeans, reaching into his knickers and then releases a sob, “I have a fucking pussy!” He cries, mascara dripping down his tanned cheeks. Standing up, Jordan ignores Liam’s hysterical breakdown and looks around them. The road lay before them like a tarmac ribbon; albeit, one that had been worn over time. A white line ran down the center, relatively unbroken compared to the scarred and potholed concrete. A gust of dry wind flows through the maze of ancient houses where windows have long shattered in the weakness of their structures and rotting boards, some broken, others hanging try to cover the empty eyes of every abandoned home. Doors hang on the few threads of their hinges and groan with pain at every sway. Weeds socialize across the cracking asphalt of the very road Jordan was stood on. Jordan shivers involuntarily, “This is messed up.” “Tell me about it!” Liam screeches. “Oi, oi fatties, get your greasy asses up!” The same sinister voices says, as though it’s being projected down from the sky. The sound of a girl belching diverts Jordan and Liam’s attention to the plus-sized Barbie. Her overall look was pretty cute, clad entirely in a pink glittery dress and Gucci stilettos. But her hair was disheveled and all over the place, a few strands were hanging in her mouth. “As you can already tell, you’re not your usual selves are you?” The voice chuckles, “In this game, you have all assumed your desired role… Jordan, you’re now a large and in charge black woman who is independent, shady and loud… You will be referred to as Thunder Thighs from now on, do you understand?” “That’s not my name though.” Jordan responds. “You’re called Thunder Thighs!” The voice booms, making Thunder Thighs visibly jump, “Wendy… Your love for K-Pop has given me no choice but to make you one of these dainty, beautiful creatures. Henceforth, you will be known as Korean Songbird.” Everyone looks at the Asian girl, who blushes and waves at the other four, “Hey guys.” “Liam… Your obsession with that rat Teddy Sinclair made me think that you had issues. But as we all know, you have an insatiable appetite for partying, alcohol and drugs. From now on, you’ll be an angsty, hormonal teen by the name of Xanax.” “You didn’t have to get rid of my massive penis!” He whines, cupping his crotch. “Quiet now, little girl.” The voice’s tone softens, “Eve… Your thirst for fame and riches has been fulfilled, but with a price. You’re a pageant queen with an addiction. You might think champagne tastes like piss, but you’ll drink it like water until you’re completely shit-faced. Have fun trying to cope, Miss Universe.” The reaction the voice gets out of Miss Universe wasn’t one it was expecting. It wanted her to object or cry, like Xanax had done, instead she giggled and clapped her hands together in glee. “And finally, Ash… Next to little Xanax here, you probably have what society would consider, the most masculinity. This is why you’re the sole male. You will help guide and lead this pack of women like a true pimp, or die trying. Good luck, Big Daddy.” The voice, laughs once again. In conjunction to his villainous laugh, a crack of thunder and lightning sounds of in the sky, frightening the group - Miss Universe pissing herself a little and causing a puddle. “What even?” Big Daddy asks rhetorically, looking at his decorative walking cane, his embroidered white jacket and multiple gold/silver chains that hang around his neck. “Don’t ask questions, pal, just listen… You have until dawn to survive. Something is coming for you. It isn’t fast, walking pace at least. You’ll be able to evade it if you run a far enough distance. But he’ll know where you are and continue pursuing you. There are things out there that are ploys to distract you… My advice? Ignore them. Move on. They’ve been put there to entice you and distract you from your original objectives.” The voice pauses, creating dramatic tension within the humid atmosphere, “If this entity catches you? Well, for lack of a better phrase, you’re fucked. Deceased. Cancelado… Understand?” When the five remain silence, the voice repeats the question again but at a higher volume and with more dominance and threat laced in its tone. The second time, they murmur ‘yeses’. “Enjoy yourselves!” The voice becomes jolly, before everything goes silent once again. Xanax looks around at the others before her eyes land on Thunder Thighs and then to something behind her, “I think we should start moving don’t you think?” She points in between Thunder Thighs’ bingo wings and waist, to a figure clad in the same Grim Reaper costume, walking towards them. “This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening…-” Korean Songbird chants, whispering to themselves. Without another word, Thunder Thighs grabs onto Korean Songbird’s arm and hoists them to their feet; grabbing their hand, she drags her in the direction that Xanax had already started sprinting. Miss Universe, on the other hand, had managed to find a bottle of champagne and was no downing its contents. Big Daddy knocks it out of her hand, which garnered severe backlash, and then clutched a handful of her blonde weave and hauling her to her feet. She clumsily staggers from left to right and then proceeds to grab onto Big Daddy’s arm for guidance. The five continue running along the same narrow road for what seems like forever. The light from the lampposts casting minimal exposure, leaving some areas in the immediate vicinity in a complete blackout. They come to a halt in front of a bent iron fence. Looking up, the building on the hill had been derelict for a generation. No-one knew who owned it or why it hadn't been either demolished or refurbished. It was a gaunt shell of a mansion. The windows were mostly broken, but once they had been fancy mullioned sash types. Where there was still glass it was grey with the grime of twenty years. The door had been thick and oak with a brass knocker that looked like a lion head, but a few years back on Halloween some local fools had taken it off and after dousing it in kerosine had set fire to it. “I’ll bet cash that that place is occupied by a bunch of homeless drug addicts. I’ll take $20 per used syringe I find and then an additional $10 for other drug paraphernalia, thanks.” Xanax comments, beginning her trek up the hill. “You have a ton of knowledge in that department, don’t ya sweetheart?” Thunder Thighs asks, smirking at her whilst wrapping her fur coat around her huge, saggy breasts. “Of course I do, moron.” Xanax responds, her voice somewhat muted due to not turning around to face Thunder Thighs. The climb up the hill was uneventful, Korean Songbird created a chill ambience with her rendition of some K-Pop song. Thunder Thighs commented about some extreme chafing she was having near her vagina and Miss Universe was struggling to keep upright, feeling slightly tipsy from the excessive amount of champagne she had chugged. Big Daddy had hold of one of her arms and acted as her guide. As they reach the door. Big Daddy, with Miss Universe leaning against him, knocks on the door to no avail. Leaning in closer, he removes his arm from around Miss Universe’s waist, causing her to collapse to the ground in a drunken heap, and he puts his ear against the door - hearing the faint sound of music, he tests the doorknob which twists and opens the door. When the ragtag group enter the derelict building, they’re puzzled by the interior that greets them. One would think a house with such a hazardous looking exterior would be a danger zone for those willing to trespass. However, that wasn’t the case. It was as though the outer-appearance was purposely done to warn off wanderers. Inside, it was like a nightclub. The music was so loud that it made Thunder Thighs’ skin tingle and Korean Songbird’s lungs feel like mush. The bass thumped in time with Miss Universe’s heartbeat as though they were one and it filled her from head to toe with music. She was beginning to jive to the music herself. Over the roar of music, a distant, hazy chatter could be heard. Thunder Thighs couldn’t make out any words, but laughter rang in her ears and wouldn’t seem to stop. The song that was playing got louder, pulling the five in and captivating them. They all had no choice but to join the crowd, jumping into the huddled group like Tic-Tacs being shaken in a box. It wasn’t even the end of the night and the dance floor was outchea looking like an abused chess board. On it's black and white squares were spilled drinks and broken glass. With the lights up for clean up the whole scene that had seemed so exciting and sexual only minutes before now had all the ambiance of a dirty toilet. “What a fucking sesh, lads! This is my tune!” Xanax screams before running off into the crowd, ignoring Big Daddy’s protests and pleas to return. With the front door still wide open, Korean Songbird went to close it and froze. Climbing up the hill was the hooded figure. Rushing to barricade the door with whatever bits of furniture in sight, Big Daddy and Thunder Thighs watch them begin to pant and sweat at the exertion of energy. Miss Universe, however, was face-down on the floor. After the being began to bang on the door, with pieces of the metal frame flying into the room due to being smashed off by its brute strength, Korean Songbird didn’t waste another moment and instead fled - grabbing onto Thunder Thighs’ arm - and disappearing into the wave of people. Big Daddy looked down at Miss Universe’s unconscious form and tried to wake her. Slapping her cheek to the point where it was beginning to turn bright red, he grabbed her half-empty glass and poured the contents on her face, causing her to inhale the liquid and wake up almost instantly, coughing and spluttering. “Get up now, alcoholica! We’ve gotta go!” He screamed in her face. He looked at her eyes go wide before receiving a perforated eardrum by her high-pitched scream. The noise she released was the kind of strangled cry that exist out of mortal terror, “Goddamn, you stupid cow. What the fuck was that fo…-” He was cut-off mid-sentence when the knife met flesh, soft and pudgy, and made a satisfying squish as the tip of the blade sank deep enough into his back, making him too, release a Miss Universe-like scream to the point where his guttural chokes mixed with an agonized roar. The Grim Reaper wannabe twisted the blade in its hand, all the while sinking it deeper and deeper. Big Daddy’s skin was tearing to shreds as the knife rotated, the sound of his muscles and nerves being gouged growing louder. Then, without warning, he jerked it all the way into his back, until the shiny metal had disappeared inside him to the point where it broke the skin on his chest and the black handle was pushing against the broken skin that remained on his back. Miss Universe continued to scream until she ran out of oxygen and began coughing. She projectile vomited when blood dripped into her mouth; drenching Big Daddy’s lifeless face and herself in her own stomach contents. Rooted to the spot and too afraid to run due to the fact that she had been pinned to the floor by Big Daddy’s corpse, the Grim Reaper simply walks past her and heads towards the crowd. Watching his retreating figure, Miss Universe exhales a shaky breath and then with all of her strength and drunk wisdom, she pushes his body off of her torso. Leaning on her side and holding her head on the palm of her hand, she looks down at Big Daddy then leans down and kisses him on the cheek before standing up. She pulls a fresh bottle of champagne out of her cooch and wipes away the still wet blood from her drawn-on eyebrows, courtesy of crayola crayons. Popping off the cork, which hits the back of some guy on the edge of the crowd, she drinks it straight from the bottle. Said guy turns around angrily and storms towards her, “Eve, what the fuck you bitch?” “Theo?” She squints her eyes, trying to get a better view at the zit-covered face of the ex-sex God, “Holy mother of God, you look like you’ve had a train on ya. Multiple. Maybe even at the same time. Were you spit-roasted and given herpes?” “Ew, no. I’m not a gay.” Theo visibly cringes. “HOMOPHOBE! MENINIST PIG! THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH LIKING A BIT OF COCK NOW AND THEN!” Miss Universe’s rage intensifies. “Get back to the kitchen, pussy. You’re not eligible for this kind of party.” “THEO DIE!” Miss Universe screams, clutching the neck of the bottle of champagne and swinging the blunt object with a trajectory aiming at the unsuspecting guy’s head. When the glass shatters against his skull, he cries out, clutches the gash and falls to his knees. Using the now-broken remains of the bottle, she thrusts the sharp pieces of glass into his neck, slicing his jugular. “Oopsee.” Miss Universe’s tone becomes high-pitched and infantile, before she turns into a giggling mess as she watches the piece of male trash drown in his own blood. ---- Elsewhere in the house, Thunder Thighs’ thighs are beginning to feel as though they’ve been rubbed raw due to their non-stop running. “Call an ambulance, Wendy, the skin is hanging off in chunks… I’m chafing like a prostitute’s pussy lips.” Thunder Thighs is bent over, pushing her fat inwards so that she can get a better look at her thighs. When Korean Songbird turns around, they scream in horror, “Goddess no End Credits Starring Galaxy “Jordan” RemixZ as Himself / Thunder Thighs, the Fat Peppermint “Eve” Princess as Herself / Miss Universe, the Alcoholic Ghost “Ash” Noises as Himself / Big Daddy, the Pimp Ostian “Wendy” as Themself / Korean Songbird, the Token Bleak “Liam” Moonlight as Himself / Xanax, the Angsty and Hormonal Teen Cameos XxSolar “Daunte” EclipsexX as Himself / Grim Reaper, the Killer Maluissah “Maria” hotmail.com as Herself / Maria, the Maid "Sannse" as Herself / 9-1-1 Operator, the Useless Author's Notes *The total word count is 7,594.